


Burdened, not Broken

by jedi_of_urth



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Porn with Feelings, Some Plot, canon temporary character death referenced, lots of feelings, psychological trauma referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-23 22:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30062628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedi_of_urth/pseuds/jedi_of_urth
Summary: Following events with the Berserker Staff, May is struggling with the best way to process her emotions.  But she doesn't want to control her feelings where Coulson is concerned.  And there's no one she would rather lose control with.
Relationships: Phil Coulson/Melinda May
Comments: 19
Kudos: 53
Collections: Crack the WIP 2021, Trope Bingo: Round Sixteen





	1. Chapter 1

Outside the plane, the day was coming to an end. Although, as they were in Ireland in late-November, the days were short in terms of daylight. It had certainly seemed much longer than the daylight hours amounted to. And after several days of nearly constant travel looking for pieces of the Berserker Staff, Coulson had ordered the team to take the lengthy night off. To completely take a break; even going so far as to rent rooms at the local hotel for the night.

He'd made it clear to May and Ward that if they needed more than a night off to deal with the effects of the Staff, he would see that they got it. Considering Radisson had said they would likely need to sleep a great deal to overcome even the first stage of side-effects, the team was certainly not taking on any strenuous assignments until the two of them had recovered somewhat. Ward had looked like he was almost ready to collapse, but May knew she probably didn’t look much better. Except she also knew how her own body felt, and she definitely wasn’t tired.

The heightened strength already seemed to have mostly faded. That one useful effect seemed to be the one most tied to the Staff itself. While the lasting extra energy lingered much longer than an adrenaline rush; even hours later May still felt as if something was burning under her skin. Not painful exactly, more as though all her body’s systems were an overcharged battery that craved release it couldn’t find.

May had retreated to the isolation of the cockpit while the others had gathered things for staying off the plane for the night. Both Ward and Coulson had looked a bit like they wouldn’t mind following her; though May suspected they had slightly different reasons. To an extent, Ward likely craved the same quiet and peaceful space that May claimed for herself. Coulson on the other hand, would have liked to follow her to make sure she was alright. He likely would have tried to talk to her had he not still had business to attend to after the fight in the church.

That had been more than an hour ago, and May had stayed in the cockpit as the others left the plane. She had called in a brief update to Fury; only mentioning that Coulson had not given into the clear temptation to see what the Berserker Staff might have shown him. But they should get that thing away from Coulson and the team as soon as possible. May didn’t mention that she would certainly feel better once they had turned it over to a proper containment unit.

Since then, the sun had gone down outside while the lights of the town came on in the distance. May stayed in the darkened, quiet cockpit seeking the sense of calm she could usually find in moments like this. It was elusive tonight, because the Staff’s effects were not purely physical. May didn’t bury her darker memories or feelings, so the Staff had not unearthed long buried things in her the way it had in Ward. But there were a number of concerns it had stirred up into her consciousness and it would take time for all of that to resettle.

Time that she had, at least for now. In those quiet, lingering moments, May was largely detached from the present. Her mind floating as it would, going with the currents of thought rather than fighting them. It was quiet, especially once the others had caught the shuttle from the airfield to the hotel not long after May had removed herself to the cockpit; Ward going alone, the rest leaving together. She hadn’t seen Coulson leave, but she was pretty sure he was still on the plane. It was possible he’d left without saying anything, but it was much more likely he was still holed up in his office. Either way, she wasn’t sure if he knew she was still here, or if her move to isolate herself had actually worked on him.

Eventually, a light knock that pierced the silence of the cockpit was an answer to that. And although May knew immediately who it would be, she still tensed at the sound and her heart rate spiked briefly until she saw that it was Coulson who walked through the door. He didn’t say anything about finding May sitting alone in near-darkness. In fact, he didn’t say anything at first. He was careful about entering her space and gave her time to adjust to his presence intruding on her isolation. Instead of trying to talk to her, he crossed the small space in silence until he could place his hands on the back of her chair. May suspected he would prefer to put at least one of them on her shoulders, but he chose not to push it. In the years since Bahrain, he’d learned that she rejected any overtures of physical comfort.

Truth be told, it was what she wanted tonight. In fact, she wanted a lot more than that; she just didn’t know how to ask him.

For now, she raised one hand and closed it around his wrist behind her head. She could feel him briefly tense in surprise, but it passed quickly. After that, Coulson waited another moment before finally breaking the silence. “I’m not really expecting an honest answer, but are you alright?”

Anyone else May would have brushed the question off silently, if she gave any reaction at all. But with Phil she shrugged slowly as she considered her response. “It’s just memories,” she told him. As an answer, it wasn’t quite honest enough for her, so it almost certainly wouldn’t satisfy him.

“It’s a lot more than that. And even if it was…” Coulson let the statement hang in the air. Anyone who had been in this game as long as they had ended up with plenty of memories they’d rather not relive.

“I’ve got it under control,” she assured him, which was still probably only half true.

“You always do, which is why that’s not what I asked.”

He'd asked if she was alright. A question Melinda had no clear answer for. But then, she so rarely did. Tonight was just _more_. Everything that much closer to the surface as her body struggled and hummed with whatever this new energy was; and her mind wrestled with so many painful memories that crowded for a place in her thoughts.

Whatever answer Phil took from May’s silence, he was true to his word and didn’t push her to open up. He gave her hand a light squeeze, but otherwise gave her space and comfortable silence for a long moment. May’s mind was not so comfortably silent. In fact, it was more directed than before.

Eventually Coulson reached down and patted her on the shoulder with his free hand. “Come on. I could use a drink, and I bet you could too.” He pulled away from her then, and didn’t wait to see if she would follow him out. She took a moment to quietly sigh. The words she was looking for were; _Phil, I want sex, and I want it to be you._ All this energy in her body needed to go somewhere, and May found she didn’t want to hit the punching bag. That wouldn’t quiet her active mind, and the faces she saw behind her eyes weren’t ones she wanted to hit.

Sex with just anyone was an option; she could probably pull some guy in the hotel bar that she would never have to see again, but it didn’t feel like a good option. She didn’t quite trust herself enough around a stranger, and the kind of relief she wanted needed someone she trusted. She suspected Ward was a possibility if he had the same problems to work through. And at least with him, May had a solid idea what to expect. Plus, he wouldn’t want to talk any more than she did.

But Phil…was Phil, and she wanted it to be Phil. Part of May was conscious of the fact that she probably didn’t want things to finally happen between them because some alien weapon got in her head. And another part remembered that she had decided it was wrong to go there while she was reporting on him behind his back. And a part that spoke especially loudly tonight, in a broken child’s voice, told her that she would only hurt anyone who got close to her. But Phil was still what she wanted, still the one she loved. Even though he would almost certainly want to talk.

As May approached him at the plane’s bar, Phil finished pouring them each a couple fingers of Irish whiskey that Ward had picked up on the way back to the Bus. He passed her one, and immediately took up the task of filling the space between them with babble. About seeing to the Professor’s relocation, about a couple items that came in with his SHIELD update. Melinda relaxed into his comforting voice, her lips slightly turned up as she settled into the familiarity of it. How many nights in the last five years had been spent much like this? Coulson would show up with dinner (either take out or to cook for her) or drinks, and episodes of bad reality TV shows they would basically only admit to each other they enjoyed. And he’d fill her apartment with life for a few hours without expecting her to contribute much to it.

So many voices in her head told her why she shouldn’t treat this any differently, but from the other side one loudly asked if she really wanted to waste any more time? She remembered Hill’s voice saying “ _I’m sorry, but Phil didn’t make it_ ;” recalled the sun beating down on the few people who attended his funeral; thought of how close she came to smashing their bottle of Haig over his tombstone because they were clearly never going to have that fucking conversation. So what if the timing still wasn’t right; if there ever had been a _right_ time for something to happen it had passed them by years or decades ago because something else hadn’t seemed right then.

“You want to do dinner?” Phil asked unexpectedly once they’d almost finished their first glasses. “I’d cook, but I think we eat enough sandwiches and pancakes.” There were plenty of frozen meals and ration packs in storage for day-to-day use but they could only keep so much fresh in their little galley.

Melinda ran her finger around the rim of her tumbler and considered the remnants of the liquid within. _I want sex, and I want it to be you. I want sex, and I want you. I want you._ He could hardly have given her a better opening to let him know it. “Phil…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” he said softly. “You know that by now.”

“I don’t want to talk,” she repeated before taking a deep breath and pushing forward. “I just want you.” He was silent, probably trying to figure out if there was another way to interpret her words beyond the one she had intended. She looked up at his uncertain expression and decided to eliminate the confusion. “We can do dinner, or we can do each other. I suppose we can do both if you want, or neither if I just overstepped.”

“Melinda,” he interrupted her with a rare use of her first name. “Why?”

“Why, what?” He could have meant a dozen things, most of which May wasn’t ready to answer, and she definitely wasn’t going to answer anything but his most pressing concerns.

Phil looked down at his own empty glass, then back at her. “Why now, I guess? I thought, if the time was ever right, we’d…drink that old bottle of Haig, talk about it for a while, decide if this was something we wanted to give a chance.”

May’s heart melted a little to know he’d thought about it. Yes, that had been the plan, but the Haig was for talking it out and that wasn’t for tonight. And waiting for the right time was how it had taken them 20 years to do things according to the plan. “Because I know what I want right now,” she told him.

“Do you? Or is this a kind of sex pollen situation?”

May rolled her eyes. Though they only came up rarely, SHIELD did have policies for extreme circumstances consent considerations; which Coulson had in the past insisted on referring to as ‘sex pollen’ situations. She supposed he couldn’t be faulted for asking, this was some form of extreme circumstances they could consider, but he didn’t have to call it such a ridiculous name. Even if she usually found his dorkiness cute; even if she did right now.

“I’m serious, May, and this time I need a real answer. Are you doing okay?”

She poured herself a bit more to drink just for something to do. “I won’t say it didn’t get to me,” she admitted. They had all seen how it affected people, and Simmons had probably made a report on the physical effects of the Staff, so there was no point in lying. “But I’m not Ward, I can handle it. I would rather handle it with you.”

“In bed?”

“Or some other surface,” May said, her voice deadpan and even she wasn’t sure how much it was a joke. If it happened, it would probably be in bed; however, if Phil wanted to take her up against the bar, that would be fine with her too. That idea was actually fairly attractive, but May was sure that would be too far for him to go.

“May…” he said slowly, his voice so soft. “I’m not…I’m not saying no.” Her heart hammered in her chest at that. Maybe she had expected him to say no, to be the one to see how bad an idea it was when she didn’t want that to be the answer. If he said yes, would that mean he wanted it as much as she did? “In fact, I want to say yes,” his voice got even lower. He seemed unsure about admitting to it, as if that wasn’t the answer Melinda wanted and had already asked for. “I just don’t want to do something we’ll regret later.”

Melinda set down her unfinished drink, and kept her voice as calm as she could. “Then say yes. We have enough regrets for saying no.” May certainly did, and they were close to the surface tonight.

Phil set his glass down next to hers and stood, leaning towards her. One hand reached out hesitantly to cup the side of her head, his fingers just threading into the strands of hair around her ear. She thought for a second that, surely, he was going to kiss her, and she was breathless with anticipation. But he just stood there, eyes locked with hers for a long moment. She was sure he wanted to kiss her, but was still holding himself back. “Are you sure? Because we both know it won’t make anything easier.”

“I want you,” she said again. If Coulson had just taken her at her word from the start, this would have been easier.

He stroked his thumb along her jaw, then pulled his hand away. He dug in his pocket and produced a key card from the motel. “Give me an hour or so to make myself presentable?” he suggested. “And whatever time you need.” He meant to give them both a little more time to think, which May didn’t need now that the Rubicon was crossed. But, as much as the idea of him bending her over the bar this moment definitely had an appeal, Melinda couldn’t fault his reasons for the delay. It had certainly been a long day, and a taxing mission. What she wanted wasn’t going to change any time soon but she might talk herself out of taking the risk; they had so many times before.


	2. Chapter 2

If Melinda hadn’t had her overnight bag with her, she likely would have run the couple miles from the airfield to their hotel for the night. She may not have the same doubts as Phil, but she was aware that exerting herself in another way might clear her mind if that was what she needed. Instead, she took the shuttle, probably only one or two of the short round trips after Phil had.

Walking past the hotel bar, she could see Ward considering his drink, who knew how many in. When she looked in further and she could see the other three chatting over dinner so May walked over to the younger specialist in quiet solidarity. After signaling the bartender to pour her another of whatever Ward was drinking, and having it brought to her (it wasn’t great but he wasn’t starting with the basic stuff) she said what she needed to say. “My ex-husband was a shrink,” she told him. Ward’s surprised look clearly said he didn’t understand how that could have worked. “And he told me; some things do break us. And when it’s hard to feel human, just try to find something that makes you feel alive.”

“That work?” Ward inquired.

“He did say it before I walked out, and I’m still working on it. But I know it’s good advice.”

Ward took another long drink from his glass before he spoke again. “Didn’t know you were married,” he backtracked the conversation.

“Few years. It didn’t last.”

“They say most SHIELD agents’ don’t.”

May drank part of her own drink. She savored how it burned like good whiskey even if it could stand to age more.

“You miss him?” Ward asked. She had expected his first follow up question, but not the second.

Melinda swirled the remainder of her drink around her glass. She could half hear Andrew talking about poor coping strategies, and he might have meant the drinks or her plans with Phil. “I…” she started but didn’t know what to say. Sometimes she missed Andrew, she often regretted a number of things regarding Andrew, but she didn’t like talking about Andrew. She’d only brought him up so that she wouldn’t have to use too much of her own experience to give the advice. “It’s in the past.”

Ward offered his drink for a toast. “To letting it stay there.”

May was willing to drink to that, even if on the whole her feelings regarding Andrew were more complicated than wishing he would stay in her past. Tonight, she knocked back the rest of her drink before she headed up to her room, having said as much as she was inclined to say.

The alcohol might not have been ideal, but after three drinks in the last hour, it finally had the desired effect of quieting the buzzing in her nerves. Her mind wasn’t dulled at all though, and she knew she should probably eat something even if what she was hungry for wasn’t food. She pulled out her phone and called Coulson. “Where did we land on dinner?” she asked without waiting long after he picked up.

He took a second to answer; May had the sense he might have expected she was calling things off and was recalibrating. “I picked something up on the way in. There’s enough to share…if you want.”

“Sounds great,” she said. To Melinda’s ears, her voice sounded different than usual, even though she hadn’t intended it to. She sounded soft, a bit nervous, and loving. If she sounded that way to Phil, her voice was being more honest than her short words. “I’ll be there later.”

She pulled several items out of her overnight bag, and not for the first time wondered if all the effort she was putting into this was right or necessary. She was lucky he hadn’t already asked what this would mean for them tomorrow, because she had no way of answering that question. But after so many years she couldn’t seem to help wanting this night to be special.

The shower, and bathroom as a whole, were on the small side even for hotel bathrooms. Melinda was used to going through those routines in confined spaces, so it wasn’t a problem, but it was a bit more time consuming that she had expected. She planned on drying and finishing her hair only to find she had neglected to bring a power adapter for her hair drier, so she had to work it with a brush and towel.

As much as she might tell herself that she hadn’t been planning to make a move on Phil when she took the job on the plane, she had brought along her skimpy nightgown that she sure hadn’t planned to wear for anyone else. The dark-green, spaghetti-strapped, silk nightgown started just above her breasts and barely reached her mid-thigh, its cut perfectly sweeping with her curves. It wasn’t the most sexy nightwear out there as it was still somewhat practical, and May had worn it far more often alone in her apartment than with someone else joining her. But it revealed far too much for her to consider wearing it as a nightgown on the plane, surrounded by the team. It was nothing like the image of herself that she was comfortable projecting, especially not in their living and working situation.

Her regular, powerful look wasn’t the image she wanted to project tonight. She didn’t want to be the fearsome agent, the authority figure, and least of all the Cavalry. She wanted Phil to see her as a woman who wanted him. Loved him actually, but she wasn’t ready to be that honest.

Over the nightgown, Melinda slipped on her black dressing gown with red accents. It did get more use, as it closed in the front and covered down to her knees without revealing too much, so it wouldn’t give the game away to anyone who saw her. But she did tie it more loosely tonight. She let it flow with the shape of her body and tease the bare skin underneath.

She was cutting it close to running late before she even got to the task of makeup. Her first look in the mirror reminded her that she wasn’t exactly young anymore. She knew she was still considered attractive, but she was more likely to hear it with the modifier of ‘for a woman her age.’ That Phil was the same age, a few months older even, didn’t make the lines stand out any less in her eyes. She could see so many hard years written forever on her face; and the regrets that played behind her eyes were as clear tonight as ever, even with the alcohol haze.

A bit more consideration of her look and she ended up concluding to go with very limited makeup. The rest of her look – the loose, still-damp hair; the modestly-sexy dressing gown; the freshly cleaned skin – was a very natural and casual look. It hinted at seduction, she hoped especially to the person she was setting out to seduce, but it was also an easy look that spoke to the comfort of their relationship. She wanted him, certainly. She had wanted him for such a long time, but if what she wanted was only about sex, she wouldn’t go to someone she loved as much as she did him.

Finally, May slid her feet into her flat shoes; again, not super sexy, but she’d had the forethought that heels with this outfit wouldn’t have worked, and at least they weren’t work shoes. As she finished, she took a slow, calming breath.

Some of the voices in her head demanded to know what Melinda thought she was doing. That she stood to ruin the most important relationship in her life. There were so many ways this could and probably would go badly. Her body hummed beneath the slight numbing effect of the alcohol. So much of what she wanted – sex, comfort, to feel alive – was best found with Phil, but didn’t have to be. However, the plain fact that she wanted _Phil_ was only accomplished by finally taking this step, by risking all those things that could end badly.

She took her keycard and the one Phil had given her and stole down the hall. Ward was also on this floor, his room between hers and Phil’s, but the younger agents were another floor up. Luck was with May as not only was Ward not around, but no other guests were out during dinner hours either. Almost at the far other end of the hall, she slid the keycard into the lock and let herself into Phil’s room.

It was almost exactly the same as her own, small and a bit too full of furniture, except that Phil had found time to buy half a dozen candles that were set in the only open space on the floor large enough for them to sit down to dinner. He looked up from considering his handy-work when she entered, briefly tensed until he was sure it was her and then visibly relaxed. “Hey,” he said with a smile.

They’d taken entirely different tracks with dressing for the evening. He’d clearly also showered and changed, but was fully dressed. Wearing a dark blue shirt that even in the candle-light brought out his eyes, along with dress-casual pants, though no tie, and his feet were only covered in socks instead of shoes. It was equally sexy and adorable, and Melinda smiled at how perfectly Phil Coulson it was. “Hey, yourself,” she answered with a soft smile.

He hesitated another moment before he stepped toward her and slowly reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. She’d spent too many years recently making him uncertain about touching her, so that now he moved cautiously, but it was towards her. His eyes drank her in with more eagerness than his movements; and every partially unintended choice she’d made about her look felt like it had been exactly right for having his attention. “You look beautiful,” he told her with unexpected confidence. “You always look beautiful.”

After a moment, Phil’s hand glided to her back, and Melinda thought she could see his surprise as he realized how little she was wearing under the robe. “It’s actually still only sandwiches,” he apologized as he encouraged her to take a seat on the floor. May kicked off her shoes as he sat down too; not quite touching her once he did, but only a couple inches between them.

“Dinner wasn’t really the point. But I do appreciate the effort.”

“That’s good. I was a little worried I was turning this into too much of a date.” Phil gave her a lopsided smile that went against his earlier confidence. He was clearly nervous about how she would respond to that comment.

May raised an eyebrow at him, and gave him a new smile in return, but her heart was pounding. She loved him so much, it filled her with a different kind of buzzing energy just being on this candle-lit hotel-floor picnic date with him. “It’s good,” she assured him.

Phil passed her a cup of sparkling water and half a sandwich. Then he raised his own cup, “I feel like I should make a toast,” he said shyly, “but what I want to say is, I think it’s about time.”

Melinda didn’t mind drinking to that and her lips slowly turned into a wider smile as she pressed her cup up against his. It was past time; it was half a dozen times past time. It was the wrong time, but being here felt so right. “I think that’s just the right thing to say,” she agreed.

They drank, and Melinda wondered a bit why they weren’t drinking anything stronger. She didn’t ask; she didn’t need it at this point, and if he thought this was the best choice he was probably right.

“For the record,” Coulson went on, “I know tonight isn’t that kind of night, but even if it was, I think Fury may have taken the bottle of Haig back anyway.” May raised her eyebrow to give a more quizzical look until he went on. “I still haven’t figured out where my liquor supply went when I supposedly died. They cleaned out my old apartment, and I sort of figure Fury stole that one back.”

Melinda bit into her sandwich, but barely tasted it. Should she tell him that she’d been given that difficult task, and the bottle of Haig was currently at her mother’s place? That was a conversation and a half that she definitely wasn’t ready to have, and came dangerously close to reminding Melinda of one of the reasons this was a bad idea. “You’re right, it’s not that kind of night,” she said evenly.

“I know; death talk, not real sexy,” Phil said good-naturedly as he remained ignorant of the direction May’s thoughts had taken her. “You on the other hand; very sexy.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

Phil let her have the last word for a while as they ate in comfortable silence. Even on nights when he was determined to fill her ears with as much chatter as possible, at some point it got stopped by the need to put food in his mouth.

They both ate quickly, partially because Melinda found she was hungrier than she had realized before starting, and partially to get to what she was desperately hungry for. And she suspected his reasons were much the same. When they had both washed down the last of their meal, Phil reached out to clasp her hand; which was not something May was used to. But she didn’t pull away as she would have so many times before.

Phil ran his fingers along hers, his thumb stroking her palm and sending warmth spreading through her body. “Are we really doing this, Melinda?”

She was sure there had been a time when Phil using her first name wasn’t such a turn on, but it had clearly become one at some point. His use of it now was much like his touch; that it had been rarely used for a long time made the return more than welcome. Now she craved more of it.

“I think I’ve been pretty clear. Do you still want to do this?”

There was a flash of hesitation on his face that had May about to pull away before he answered. “Yes, I do. I just didn’t think-”

“Good,” she interrupted. The slit of her robe had partially opened and she placed his hand on her thigh. “Tonight, we feel.”

“I thought feelings weren’t really your thing,” Phil said with false seriousness and a large grin on his face as he began to rub light circles on her inner thigh. He shifted closer and rubbed a little higher, and…this time Melinda definitely saw the moment he realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

Phil’s eyes darkened and he turned to capture her lips in an awkwardly angled kiss that ended too soon. “I feel this,” she assured him, before shifting herself so she was straddling one of his legs and went to work unbuttoning his collar. She kissed his neck and each inch or so until she was working her way down his throat. “I feel you,” she added, almost to the level of the second chest button.

He pulled her back up before she went any further. His hands buried in her hair as his lips and tongue explored her mouth with the kind of kiss he had definitely never given her on any of their undercover missions, no matter how much they had needed to sell their personas. He briefly pulled away to look up at her, his eyes blazing in the low light of the candles. “You’ll tell me if I should stop?”

“Don’t,” she said with a shake of her head before she kissed him back with the same fervor he’d started.

Phil’s hands went to work undoing the loose tie of Melinda’s belt, flowing up her sides until he could push the robe off her shoulders. “You are so unbelievably sexy,” he said when she surrendered his lips, only for him to put them to the task of trailing kisses along her jaw-line, down her neck, to her now rather exposed chest around the upper swell of her breast.

She enjoyed the attention for a while but then whispered low and encouragingly, “One of us is wearing far too many clothes.” She put her hands back to work on his shirt, briefly fumbling before she found the rhythm again. As she did, Melinda’s knuckles gently rubbed over the scar tissue on Phil’s abdomen, and even the slight pressure on the damaged, sensitive skin made him pause in his attentions to her.

“May,” he retreated back behind her last name, “I haven’t…”

“I know.” Or at least she’d guessed he hadn’t been with anyone since it happened. She ran her fingers feather-lightly back up the area, and he shivered; she wasn’t quite sure it was with pleasure but he didn’t object. “You’re sexy to me, too,” she whispered.

Phil turned her face so she was looking into his eyes again. “There’s no going back,” he echoed her words from a few weeks ago, only he wasn’t talking about the scars.

“There’s not supposed to be,” she agreed seriously.

She knew they would have to talk, she’d never really believed he wouldn’t expect them to talk, but that answer seemed to satisfy him for now. Once Phil nodded and a small smile had returned to his lips, Melinda bent and kissed them again. Long and deep, her tongue making passes along his until one of them forgot how to breathe and had to withdraw. It might have been her who pulled back, but they were breathing heavily together, the rhythm coming quite naturally to them.

Phil leaned into her, in position to kiss her again if given a moment to breathe. Instead, Melinda stood up, shedding her robe entirely as she did. Which put Phil’s face very nearly level with the hem of her nightgown and the bare, already wet area underneath. “Blow out the candles, and come to bed,” she instructed.

She stepped past him and quickly covered the very short distance separating them from the bed. She arrayed herself in the middle of the bed, the drape of her nightgown just concealing her cunt from Phil as he extinguished all but one of the candles which he deposited on the dresser next to the dark TV. His room faced mostly east where the moon was still coming up, and it provided more light than the single candle. But he still left it burning; and it did offer warmth to what would be stark contrast in the moonlight.

It also helped when he turned back to look at her. The slight candlelight did help them to better see each other’s familiar features when his eyes moved across her body. And if he was still looking for doubt on her face, Melinda didn’t see as much uncertainty on his anymore. They shared another nod before he began to remove his pants. She watched him, her breath coming quick and eager as he undressed. He stopped after he stepped out of his pants, and though Melinda wanted him to remove his boxers too, he didn’t immediately. In silhouette, her eyes caressed the angles of his body, drinking in what she saw of his strong chest and arms as he discarded his shirt; less self-conscious now that there was less light around them. And although it wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before, she still swallowed heavily at the outline of his erection and her body flushed even deeper with arousal.

They were really doing this. The artificial buzzing of Melinda’s nerves was entirely drowned out with her own perfectly natural desire. The voices were entirely silenced because she and Phil were really, finally doing this. It was exactly the feeling she’d been hoping he’d give her; that only he could have.

“So,” he asked as he sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her, “what kind of night is this?”

She pulled him in so his body pressed against her, face first so she could kiss him roughly, dragging her teeth across his bottom lip before they separated. He settled a hand back on her thigh and softly kissed the end of her nose before he sat up again. “Phil,” she complained, and he had the nerve to smile at her tone.

“Well, if you insist,” he said and his hands began to pull her short skirt up. Past her hips, his hands firm on her sides as he finished removing almost the last barrier between them. Then he lay next to her, propping himself up so he was still somewhat above her and reached the other hand to palm one of her breasts. His hand sprayed around her pert nipple, his fingertips squeezed the flesh of her boob just a bit more than could be called gently, and far from tentatively. “You do have amazing breasts, have I ever told you that?”

“Probably,” Melinda said, her voice almost giggly; she hadn’t giggled in a long time.

“Really?” Phil said, shifting his hand so his fingers were around her nipple, pinching it slightly between his digits. “I feel like I would remember saying that. Or at least remember you hitting me for saying it.”

“Whatever, Phil. Just shut up and enjoy them now,” she said as she laughed and leaned into his touch as well as she could.

“Melinda May, did you just ‘whatever’ me?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer before he lowered himself and began licking at her unoccupied breast.

“I absolutely did; I did ‘whatever’ you,” May said, turning her body slightly, trying to press herself up against him more.

Phil fully pinched her hardened nipple, and dragged his teeth across the other as he pulled back. “I could like chatty Melinda,” he said before his mouth took over for his hand, while that previously occupied hand slid down her body to rest on her ass.

Which gave her an idea for something else that hand could do. “You like chatty? Spank me, and see how chatty I get.”

“Really?” he said, surprised and uncertain, but his hand began to rub her bare, tight rump.

“Yes,” she nodded. It was bold to suggest to him, but Melinda was feeling bold.

Phil looked down at where his hand was placed, pulled it back slightly and brought it down in a light swat.

“More than that,” she said. He took the instruction and his next attempt had just enough to it to make her sigh and shift into him in response. This wasn’t a great angle for him to hit hard, but the slight sting felt amazing. “I like that,” she said breathily.

If he hadn’t been fully hard a few minutes ago, he was now and he moaned deep in his throat as their bodies tried to fit together in spite of the cotton boxers still encasing him. He gave her two more quick swats before rolling them so he was fully above her. “Phil…”

“You can be on top,” he assured her, though she had really been wondering if he was already done being a little bit rough with her. She wanted more, wanted to let herself enjoy that with someone she trusted so completely; she hadn’t been able to in a long time. “Later,” he continued. “I have other plans for now.” It occurred to May that if positioning had really been her concern, she would have rolled them over now just to prove she could. Which she could have, and she knew he wouldn’t have stopped her; but even if she had wanted to at first, his mouth went back to pressing kisses to her breasts and she was quite willing to let him carry on.

The gradual downward trajectory of his movements made his ultimate goal easy to guess and she was squirming beneath him before he’d even reached it. The first time his fingers slid between her lower lips she gasped, “Fuck, Phil,” as she writhed into his touch.

He propped himself up to look at her as he continued to caress her, frustratingly shallow for now. “That is the idea, right?” he said smugly. The hesitancy was all but gone, he’d given himself over to this as much as she had. His fingers slid a little deeper, his thumb applied brief pressure to her clit. “Now,” he said, pushing her legs a bit wider, “be as chatty as you want; what I really want to know is how you taste.”

His fingers left her only to be replaced by his tongue licking the length of her seam that had been yearning for his attention since they began; who knew how long it had been now – years maybe. “Phil…so good,” she moaned.

His tongue danced among her folds, never going very deep into her, but lapping up juices from any angle. One of her hands went to the back of his head, encouraging him deeper, while the other fisted in the bedclothes. “More,” she demanded in half a cry.

“Wonderful,” he said when he pulled back, getting breathless himself. “Remind me again why we didn’t do this years ago?”

“No idea,” she answered, which was about as long a sentence as Melinda figured she could form coherently.

“So far, totally worth the wait though.”

“Yeah,” she agreed just as his tongue flicked across her clitoris. “Yes.”

Phil’s attentions to her clit were distracting enough she almost didn’t feel at first as his fingers worked their way slowly into her channel. This time though, they didn’t stop at the entrance, but pressed in until fully inside before pulling out. In and out, his fingers moved as his lips and tongue played with her clit. In and out he moved them steadily, until she lost counts of how many times and she completely came apart, grinding herself against him as she sought and found her release.

“There you go,” he said softly, his fingers still stroking her, drawing out as much pleasure as he could. Her fingers were gripped tightly in his short hair, keeping him more or less in place. “That was…” He trailed off, and Melinda didn’t know quite how he would have finished that; for her it felt amazing.

His breathing against her was hot and almost as quick as hers as he rested himself between her legs. Eventually her breaths calmed a little and she relaxed her tight hold on his hair, but he remained where he was. “Phil…” she panted. “Phil, I want you inside me.” It didn’t feel like such a big step at this point, but it was one she wanted to take desperately.

He dropped a kiss on each of her inner thighs before he pulled away and stood up off the end of the bed. She watched him finally remove his boxers and stand entirely bare in front of her. May had seen him naked, or at least mostly naked, before; usually in fairly bad circumstances and sometimes just walking in on him at an unexpected moment, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen him erect before. A few times she had felt him trying not to get hard with their bodies pressed tightly together hiding in confined spaces or performing some kind of distraction, so she knew he was attracted to her on some level. But this was different, this was his desire for her; and it was far from a stray awkward moment, this was something they both wanted.

Melinda unconsciously licked her lips. She would very much enjoy wrapping her lips around his cock, or licking him like an ice cream cone, or taking him deep in her mouth until he fed her his seed. She didn’t always enjoy giving blow jobs, but she thought she would like it with Phil. Not right now though, tonight she wanted him inside her when the moment came.

“See anything you like?” he asked, a little shyness returning to his tone under her scrutiny.

“Yes,” she assured him simply.

He turned away and reached in the dresser to retrieve a condom. That she hadn’t thought to bring or ask about condoms probably said something, but she was in no mood to think about it right now. She trusted Phil so completely that it hadn’t been important. Besides, they were both healthy, and had check-ups recently enough to be pretty sure of that; and she was as confident as she could be that on the off chance it was even necessary at her age, her birth control implant was working properly. But still, she was glad that he had been prepared for what she forgot.

Melinda made her jelly limbs cooperate so she could sit up to assist rolling the condom down his shaft. He shivered lightly when she touched his cock and when she ran her hand down to stroke his balls. She looked up at his face as she continued to touch him. “I want you,” she said again. To her own ears it sounded like ‘ _I love you_ ,’ but she figured Phil wouldn’t presume to hear it.

And it seemed he hadn’t read too far into her statement before he answered, “I want this too.”

She gave him one more stroke before turning around and crawling along the bed on her hands and knees. “I wouldn’t mind you spanking me from a better angle this time.”

“You’re really into this aren’t you?” he asked, sounding as if he still didn’t believe it.

With the right partner, it was something Melinda sometimes liked; and it felt right with Phil. It was possible everything might feel right with Phil. “Yeah,” she told him. “Don’t go easy on me.”

“If you’re sure,” he agreed, his voice low and a little bit dangerous. As she faced the wall, she felt the bed dip as he climbed in behind her and began rubbing both his hands across her cheeks. He massaged her for a long moment before removing his hands again, and one descended quickly to smack her rear.

It was about the same strength he’d shown before, and it still made her sigh. “Harder,” she let him know.

“Melinda, I…” He’d gone along with her up to now, but he didn’t need to finish for her to know why he was reluctant. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” she said confidently.

He gave her another spank, and it was enough to make her _yip_ in surprise. “That’s good,” she assured him before he could think it was too much.

With one hand Phil lightly caressed the now more sensitive flesh of her ass, while the other hand spanked the fresh cheek a couple times. For a little longer he alternated sides, but changed the pattern a couple times so as not to be predictable. He wasn’t quite as rough as Melinda could have taken, but she didn’t ask him to go any harder this time. Instead, she gasped and jerked in front of him and savored the sound of flesh slapping and the sensual sting in her rear.

Eventually he stopped, and now softly touched her now more tender flesh. “Melinda, I…” he was panting at least as much as she was, “I need to…”

She smiled widely, though Phil couldn’t see it from his position. Maybe she smiled like that because he couldn’t see it. She spread her knees a bit wider and lifted herself to open up for him. “I need it too.”

“Melinda?” he asked, surprised. He knew enough of her usual preferences to know this wasn’t exactly her normal choice of position.

Nothing about this could quite be called normal. Tonight, this was what felt right. “Don’t argue, Phil.”

He moved in close behind her and positioned his cock between her spread legs. He rubbed his erection against her cunt a couple times as his hand continued to rub her ass. Her quivers in response to his touch on her sensitive skin made her shift along his exploring dick; even like that it felt wonderful, but it wasn’t where she wanted him. So she balanced herself on one arm and reached down to guide him to her entrance.

Melinda softly moaned as the head entered her, and it ended in a long, quiet, “Ohhhhh, Phil,” as he slowly filled her. Giving her time to take him in easily or giving them both time to savor the moment as they finally crossed this barrier between them. It was so good, so right, with him inside her that she had to tell him, the words coming out in unpolished gasps. “This… feels… incredible.” She didn’t even care that it probably sounded stupid to say.

“God, Melinda, this is so…amazing isn’t enough.”

He pulled out and thrust back in, more quickly this time. That was true, she thought; good, right, even amazing still wasn’t enough. It felt like she’d come home, like she’d come back to life, like she could fly. It felt like belonging, and truth, and happiness. It felt like falling in love, even though she’d fallen for him a long time ago.

With more thrusts, he shifted positions and managed to find an angle that brought him even deeper inside her. They were both moaning and grunting with pleasure, words more or less forgotten. Save for the odd, “Phil,” she managed to mutter once or twice. “Phil, I…”

He leaned forward a bit so he could bring a hand to rub her clit in time with his thrusts. “Come with me;” something between a command and a question as he worked to help her answer it.

“Phil…I love you,” she breathed. She had no idea right now if they had been actual words.

If she had said it, it didn’t change anything in his next couple of deep thrusts that sent her over the edge; her walls clenching around him for the remaining few strokes it took him to finish. He moaned, “Melinda,” as he came; he’d used her first name more often tonight than he probably had in more than two years, and each seemed better than the last.

Somewhere along the line, tears had formed in Melinda’s eyes; every barrier had come down, her walls crumbled in his touch. Now, she closed her eyes, trying to hang on to that wonderful feeling even as she searched for her control again. She didn’t want anyone, not even Phil, to see her so vulnerable yet. She took deep, slightly shuddering breaths in time with him as they came down from their climaxes; and with that connection to him, she managed not to fall apart completely.

He could, probably would, be the cause of and the one to catch her when she did.

After what felt like a long time but might have only been a few moments, Phil gently pulled out of her and leaned forward, one hand softly brushing her shoulder, to press a long, deep kiss to the back of her neck. The tears rose toward Melinda’s eyes again but didn’t reach them this time. She sank down to lie on her stomach, and he followed her, covering her with his body briefly before he rolled onto his side next to her. His hand continued lightly rubbing her back and he was smiling when she turned her head to face him, the mixed candle and moonlight created deep shadows on his face, but his expression was so soft and sweet that even the harsh lighting couldn’t change it.

“Did you get enough?” he asked, though he seemed pretty confident of her answer.

She nodded, the slick material of the hotel pillowcase rubbing against her cheek. It was wonderful, he was wonderful. Melinda’s heart was full to bursting with everything she was feeling, her body left weak in the wake of it all. She could have told him everything, if she felt like talking.

He kissed her shoulder, the easiest part for him to reach. “I feel like I should say something…but I can’t find the words.”

She couldn’t tell yet if Phil had heard her there towards the end, but there was plenty more he might have thought he should say beyond answering that. “You don’t always have to have the words,” she told him.

“Says the woman of mystery,” he lightly teased. Then he fell silent, slowly depositing a couple more kisses against her skin.

It was true that words weren’t necessary, and the way she felt was beyond them anyway, but for a moment she had so much she wanted to say. Her chest felt tight with things she couldn’t begin to express. How much she loved him and how happy he made her; how much they should have done this years ago, but he was worth the wait; that if souls were real and she had one, it had always been bound to his.

That she never would, and never could, deserve him.

Eventually he broke the quiet, still moment that stretched between them. “I should…” he gestured vaguely downward and she nodded again. “I’ll just be a minute.”

With obvious reluctance he rolled out of bed. He moved a little awkwardly on his way to the bathroom, trying to keep the condom in place until he could dispose of it. He shut but didn’t fully latch the bathroom door behind him, and shortly Melinda could hear the sink running as he went about cleaning himself up.

She took a deep breath, which felt more unsteady now that Phil wasn’t breathing next to her. She sat up, her muscles not exactly protesting but clear that she could have quite happily simply remained lying prone. With her body temperature returned to normal and Phil not adding warmth to her skin, it was a bit cold in the room so she moved to the side of the bed and reached out for her nightgown. Not that it was particularly warm, but it would keep a few sensitive areas covered.

Left alone, even if Phil was only on the other side of the not particularly thick wall that cordoned off the bathroom, Melinda didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She didn’t want to lay in the bed without him, so she stood up, blew out the remaining candle, and regretted it soon after as she couldn’t remember exactly where her robe had been discarded. The moon offered enough light to see by on the window side of the room, but the floor on the far side was darker and hid the mostly black robe.

 _I had sex with Phil_ , her mind thought and still couldn’t quite believe. She couldn’t say it was what she’d imagined. Although, as she had imagined a good many things over time, she might have considered this at some point. But in the important ways it was exactly what she had known it would be. He was always attentive, gentle and caring, but capable of cutting loose; decisive but not forceful in most things he did; and Melinda hadn’t expected anything different when it came to sex, and it made him very good. It also turned out that his dick felt amazing when pushed inside her, he certainly had nothing to be shy about on that front.

Gradually it set in that this was also the first time in years that she’d been with someone she loved, and her heart and mind were both struggling with how that felt. It felt amazing, but it was also more than a bit terrifying. Loving him was so damned easy she’d been doing it for years before she realized it, but doing anything with that feeling was new.

She had found her robe and was standing, holding it when Phil emerged from the bathroom. She turned to face him, and again found him silhouetted in the moonlight. She could tell he’d dressed in his usual t-shirt and loose pajama pants, rather than returning naked and ready for more. “So, are you staying or going?” he asked. He said it lightly, neither too much judgement or hope for her decision, but the seriousness of the question was still there.

“I hadn’t decided yet,” she answered honestly. She hadn’t really thought about it either. “Maybe I’ll get cleaned up before I do?”

Melinda could see him nod, and thought she could see him smile as he did. “Alright,” he agreed and stepped out of her path to the bathroom.

As she went through her nightly routine it was strange not to have her own supplies at hand but not strange at all to be surrounded by his. Weeks ago it had become clear that there wasn’t enough room for five people to keep each all of their preferred toiletries in the main bathroom on the plane, so the team had agreed to store fewer things in there, and Phil had invited May to keep some of hers in his smaller washroom if she wanted to. Ward had asked why she was the only one who got the offer and Phil had shrugged that he supposed the other specialist could as well, as long as he didn’t take up too much space; though that might just move the problem. Melinda’s various necessities had already started to mingle with Phil’s, while Ward’s had never materialized. It didn’t quite seem right that tonight she had left her nightly routine back in her room, separate from Coulson’s.

But the way she was sharing the space with him tonight was different; she remained aware that she could still feel his touch on her body as she went about her routine as well as she could. It didn’t fade as she wiped her skin clean, not that she wanted it to; she wanted to feel him as much as possible. Borrowing his toothpaste to wash out her mouth seemed especially different. The taste was a generic light mint, hardly different from her own, but she was aware that this was his. Somehow, the taste reminded her of him. Not exactly from tonight, as they’d barely kissed and he’d tasted as much like the sandwich they’d shared than toothpaste by then. But she had smelled it on his breath often enough and it was the same reliable flavor he’d used for years.

Years. She didn’t want to think they had waited too long, especially not right now when dark thoughts chipped away at her post-sex calm. She would like to be able to think about the next chapter of their long story, but there might be too much baggage already written.

May shook her head at herself as she began washing her face; using a different washcloth from Phil because that really would have been a step too far. She was hopelessly in love with her partner, but that wasn’t anything new. Still, with everything else that had just changed in their relationship, maybe she ought to put a little distance back between them. And to do that she really had to go back to her own room, take a proper shower to get the feel of him off her skin, and try not to think about the fact that she was pretty sure she’d told him she loved him in the midst of things. He hadn’t mentioned it, maybe she’d said it quietly or muffled enough, or maybe she’d just thought it, but they weren’t ready for that, and the fact that part of her wanted him to know was dangerous ground.

Thinking everything through, it became fairly clear what she should do. She should kiss him, really kiss him again, say goodnight and then go back to her own room. It wasn’t as if she was rejecting him, but she definitely didn’t want to be found here by the team in the morning and Phil would understand that she wasn’t ready to move things even further between them tonight. Although, even as she reached that decision, Melinda knew it was a conclusion that didn’t feel like it had any resolve behind it.

Phil was waiting for her outside the bathroom when she emerged. She’d heard him moving a few things around earlier, picking up the candles in the dark hadn’t been silent, but that had gone quiet moments ago. He’d taken that time to settle into a ‘casual’ pose that almost made Melinda laugh at how carefully chosen it must have been; leaning slightly on the wall opposite the bathroom door, standing enough in the moonlight to be visible and noticeable but not so much that it looked like a spotlight.

Instead of laughing, she just raised an eyebrow slightly, which was quite enough to get her message to him because he laughed slightly at himself. “Come here,” he said, straightening up and opening his arms for her to step into. She didn’t hesitate; as much as she had wanted sex, this kind of casual intimacy had been absent between them for too long. She already knew how wonderful his hugs felt, how safe she felt in his arms, and this was exactly what she needed now. But she couldn’t seem to ask for it earlier, before they had moved far past hugging. The change in their relationship was still evident with her clad in a skimpy nightgown more than him in his casual pajamas, but the combination didn’t seem that odd to them. Out of her usual heeled boots, Melinda’s head rested easily against Phil’s shoulder as one of his arms folded around her back, the other wound in her hair and lightly pressed her ear against the beating of his heart.

She melted into his embrace, her arms encircling him as naturally as he held her. He rested his head against hers, though she felt him first ghost a light kiss against her hair. They stood there for a long moment, breathing in time with each other, both finding it unnecessary to break the tranquility that descended on them.

It had been years since Melinda had broken a silent moment between them, whether that silence was comfortable or not. Eventually Phil shifted, and pressed another, more obvious, kiss against the side of her head. “I didn’t hurt you too badly, did I?” he asked.

“Of course not,” she assured him. She’d taken a look in the bathroom and, as expected, her cheeks were only slightly red. It had been just enough, but Phil would never really hurt her.

He drew back slowly, but just enough to encourage her to look up and meet his eyes. They were hard to read in the half light of the moon, but the need to convey sincerity came through just the same. “Are we going to be okay?”

Melinda raised herself up slightly to gently kiss him, though it was little more than an extended brush of her lips against his. It wasn’t the kiss she’d thought she’d give him, but it was still real; simple and pure, even though those were two things their relationship would never be. “We’re good,” she promised. She then settled herself back against his chest, it would be easier for her to say the rest without making eye contact. “I know you want to talk about what comes next,” she said, her voice quiet against his chest. She wanted to bury herself inside him; her resolve to leave without walking deeper into this was already a fading memory.

Phil sighed, but only a little, and made no effort to deny it. “I’m not asking for anything you don’t want to give.”

He meant he didn’t need promises or assurances, that he didn’t expect commitment beyond what they already had to each other. This man who held so much of her heart – who had been stealing it, and given it, piece by piece for most of their adult lives – wouldn’t ask for her love.

The imagined, dark voices spoke in Melinda’s mind again; suggesting cruelly to her that he didn’t want to talk about what she’d said because he didn’t feel the same and was too good a friend to hurt her more tonight. Those thoughts said quite clearly that her loving him was the worst thing for him because she was a soulless monster whose heart had died long ago.

The kind of monster who didn’t tell the man she claimed to love that the creature she had become wasn’t the person he was determined to save. A cruel being who watched him struggle with questions she could answer, but took the word of a professional liar that those truths would break him.

That should be her reason to leave. Not to spare herself, but him. If she loved him, wasn’t that the right choice? That voice sounded a little like Andrew. She’d made that choice with him for arguably less cause.

Likely sensing that she was on the verge of pulling away, Phil tightened his arms around her. “Stay, even if just tonight. Please, Melinda…let me be your shield for a while.”

This time she did laugh softly. “That is a terrible line,” she told him. It was; but she loved him, terrible lines and all.

“I was going to go with something about seeing if I could fight some demons for you, but that sounded worse in my head.” It seemed so long ago that he’d been concerned she was too affected by the Staff, but as reality tried to force itself between them once more, he had remembered and he worried about her.

As further proof, not that she had needed any more, that she had no resolve to do the right thing with him, Melinda let herself accept what he offered. “Okay,” she answered. They stood together a little longer, her world surrounded by him, measuring time in his breaths and heartbeats. How many more did they have before this peace fell apart?

They ended up being very literal with his offer, as Phil big-spooned against her back, not an inch of that side of her body going without his warmth pressed against her. He managed to position his top arm closed around her, just right to comfort – to shield – but not cage her in.

In spite of finding such a near-perfect position, Melinda couldn’t resist the urge to experimentally shift herself against her partner’s groin, and was rewarded with feeling a low moan ripple through his chest before it escaped his mouth. “I suppose I might have round two in me if that’s what you want,” he said, his voice tight.

She stopped her motion and instead interlaced her fingers with his. “You need sleep,” she told him. That much she could see clearly and make the right call.

“So do you,” he replied.

Sleep didn’t come easily to either of them most nights, but it had been a long day which made rest easier to find than usual. And with Phil guarding her back against the demons, the strain of the Staff became manageable enough.

In the morning she wouldn’t be able to remember if the whispered “I love you, Melinda,” had been real or the beginning of a dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, magor thanks to my beta reader, and also the hosts of [crackthewip](https://crackthewip.dreamwidth.org/) for giving me a reason to finally finish this off.
> 
> I have a lot of ideas for following up on this, and encouragement feeds the muses to try and sort those ideas out. Just saying...

**Author's Note:**

> This story got a little too long to post as one chapter, but even though it makes the chapters uneven this was the best place to split them.
> 
> Many thanks to my beta reader for lots of help getting the story ready to post and even more to get me to a point where I was willing to share it. It's been a long time since I got over that hurdle.


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